Never leave one for dead
by Valzen
Summary: Hermione Granger was left for dead. Now she is coming back to the wizarding world with seven years of training. She has a new identity and new enemies. Her mission to end the war.
1. She Was

**Never leave one for dead**

**Chapter**: 1

_**Disclaimer**: Sadly I do not own Harry Potter and I am but a muggle. One day. One day it will be mine!_

Chapter one: she was

She was pissed. That monster, the one that called himself Voldemort had taken away two of the people she held dear. He had attacked her home, killed her parents and left her for dead.

She was beyond mourning and depression, she was at the point of boiling anger, she had once promised her parents that if they died she would continue with life. Living in a time of war one tended to understand and except death, but she was furious.

She was productive, their deaths would not be in vain. She channeled her rage into power and focused on her training, she would learn everything she could about muggle fighting and she would become an avenger.

She was missing, two weeks after her graduation there had been a death eater raid on her house and to the wizarding world she was MIA, no body found,

She was traveling. Going to any location she could learn something new. The order and school made her a skilled witch but, now she needed to become strong physically.

Hermione Granger, the girl who died, the smartest witch of her age was returning to the wizarding world with a score to settle.


	2. Over the years

**Never leave one for dead**

**Chapter**:2

_**Disclaimer**: Sadly I do not own Harry Potter and I am but a muggle. One day. One day it will be mine!_

Chapter two: Over the years

A lot had changed over the years. The dark side was gaining more power and control. The light side was suffering but their number had grown now that the threat had been recognized.

Things had changed for the order. Many had died. The Weasley clan had lost Bill, Charlie, George and Author, Ron and Harry had lost themselves when Hermione had dissappeared. They never smiled and didn't seem to enjoy life very much, even the loss of many members of Ron's family didn't snap him back. Minerva and Snape ran the order. Malfoy had come to the light once his father had killed his mother, headquarters was still at Grimmauld place.

Hogwart's still stood, it was surprising that it did so but Voldemort hadn't done so yet. Minerva McGonagall was head mistress. Snape taught potions much to the dismay of three houses, Fred Weasley taught charms. Sprout was in charge of teaching Herbology. Madame Pomfrey's daughter was the new healer. Hagrid still stayed with Hogwarts but no longer taught just looked after the grounds. The sport of quidditch stopped along with any other event that created a gathering of people. Shopping centers only receive people when necessary and people almost never traveled alone.

Azkaban had become Voldemort strong hold but the order didn't dare try to penetrate it's boundaries. The dark had gained many allies, the dementors and giants among them.

The wizarding world was no longer safe and the people knew it, people would go places in groups, the world of magic never feared the name of Voldemort so much, death eaters walked freely in the streets and the ministry had vertically no power.

The muggles had started to notice changes. They started blaming "natural" disasters on global warming.

A lot had changed over the years and one woman was sitting in a cabin deep in the mountains reading about current events. She would need to know everything for her return.


	3. The Return

**Never leave one for dead**

**Chapter**:3

_**Disclaimer**: The world of Harry Potter is not mine. I have cried and cried but no one has gotten it for me. Furthermore, before the story starts a big thank you goes out to SMR my new Beta!_

Chapter three: The return

A woman stood outside Grimmauld place. It was still the Order's headquarters and she could still see it from what seemed a life time ago. She wasn't staring at it reflecting, there would be time for that after she killed that monster. No, she was looking at the house taking in what it had become. The house had not seen glory days since the time of the Blacks but it had become even more rundown since her departure. Pausing this train of thoughts for now she walked up to the door to ring the bell. A portrait's screams could be heard from inside and the scuffle of feet.

There was a knock on the door. Draco Malfoy, the guard inside, readied his wand. He was unworried by it, really, since even Order members had to knock. The only way into Headquarters was through the front door, after all, and that could only be opened from the inside.

He opened the door and was greeted by the sight of an unexpected woman. She was tall, about 5ft10 with her heels. She had long dark brown hair that went into ringlets at the base of her back. She was wearing a black skirt that reached the floor with a slit up her mid thigh. Her shirt was red and long sleeved and her eyes were obscured by the black sunglasses she wore. Her stance and the presence about her screamed dangerous.

"Who are you?" Draco asked his wand pointed straight at her heart. She didn't even flinch.

"I'm looking for Severus Snape." She said coolly.

"Name?"

"That doesn't matter."

"Fine, but you have to wait outside." He replied rudely. She didn't say anything. She knew protocol. Draco pulled a chain next to the door and a bell rang further inside, there was a pause and then steady footsteps were heard from inside the house and a dark haired, bat like – she thought with an internal smirk – man strode into the hall.

"Who are you?" Severus Snape barked wand drawn. He hadn't changed a bit.

"I need to talk to you in private." She said, her eyes pointedly glancing to the blond hovering farther inside the headquarters building.

"Draco, leave." Draco immediately turned and left, showing clear respect for Snape.

"Can we go inside? You're being rude."

"No". He replied shortly, unconcerned he was proving her right.

"My name is Hermione Granger. The otter swims freely in may." That was her password back then.

"Follow me," he snapped and led her into the same room Dumbledore used as his study when at headquarters. He settled himself behind the desk before addressing her,"You're presumed dead. Where have you been Miss. Granger?" Hermione sat down with grace, outwardly she made no indication of noticing his bad manners when inside she was laughing.

"Training." she answered simply.

"I know that Miss. Granger. You stated that in your letters. That was actually all you stated, no location, no way of me contacting you or a time you would return." He replied.

"They served their purpose. Two letters a year, one person knew I was alive and would eventually return. And no question of loyalty when I did." she replied coolly and with a meaningful look at him.

"Why me? When I got your first letter the order didn't even believe I was on our side." He still had the same intimidating presence but his curiosity was evident to the girl, who was now trained to see it.

"Severus," she replied using a name she had been forced to use after her graduation, "A woman had her secrets, but what I can tell you is, I never doubt your loyalty."

"You said in your letters you would return, and I don't need to question your motives so what is the point of this particular conversation?" Even with his less than mediocre people skills he had gained running the order you could hear his annoyance. What the normal observer wouldn't sense, but Hermione could, was his uneasiness seeing how much his former student had changed.

"I don't want them to know it is me," she replied, with the ghost of a shrug, "It will complicate things."

XOXOXOXOOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Hey loves, this was the chapter and I would like to thank two wonderful people who helped make it what it is. My best friend Maya and her unhuman typing skills and my new Beta SMR. I don't know what I would have done without them, I do know that my grammar and spelling would have made some cry. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and that you will review to make us all feel loved!


	4. The New Girl

**Never leave one for dead**

**Chapter**:Four

_**Disclaimer**: CANDY, TEA, AND HYPERNESS! YAY! The one horrible thing right now is that I do not own Harry Potter :(._

Chapter 4: The New Girl

A new girl had entered the noble house of Black. She wasn't very sociable and she only seemed to talk to Severus. However the mysterious girl possessed impeccable manners and when spoken to would respond politely.

She would attend meals in silence, she would help clean and she would then disappear for extended periods of time. The girl had only been there for a few weeks but had seemed to have no problems finding her way even on her first day.

Harry and Ron didn't like her, but not for her quietness – they honestly couldn't care less if she talked with them or not. No, they didn't like her because due to lack of rooms she was the first to inherit Hermione's room.

Draco Malfoy did like her, particularly for the fact that her presence angered 'Potter and his brainless pet'. He liked her because, from what he had gathered from Severus, she was smart – unlike most girls. Also unlike most girls, she had bigger concerns than her appearance, in fact Draco feared what the wizarding world would do if she tried, she was effortlessly gorgeous already. To Draco, her single most attention grabbing quality was that she appeared very capable of holding her own in a fight, even though he had yet to see her use a wand. He had heard her speak briefly of different magical affairs and of spells and potions, so she was no muggle, but he had still never seen her preform any type of magic.

Other order members who had stopped by the headquarters during her stay didn't trust her, with the exception of Lupin and, more surprisingly, Fred Weasley.

It was dinner time, and several members of the order sat around the table enjoying Molly's cooking. The group included Molly, Harry, Ron, Malfoy, Severus, Lupin and Fred. Molly finally took her own seat after having set all the food on the table. Molly was still the kind hearted woman she had always been but something was different, something was gone. The deaths of her family hit her hard and took away the essence of Molly Weasley leaving a shell, a robot on overdrive doing everything, terrified of stopping for fear of what would happen if she did.

"Alexandra, where were you before coming here dear?" Molly asked the new girl - Alexandra Rain (Alex for short). That was what Severus had named her.

"Traveling." she answered off handedly but not disrespectfully, "A little of everywhere actually. I was traveling for a few years." her answer was honest, it just lacked detail.

"On work? Or to see the world?" Lupin asked eagerly. He trusted his instincts, and therefore he knew this woman was no threat but he wanted to unravel the mystery of the woman just like everyone else at the table.

"I was training." Hermione answered placing a spoonful of peas in her mouth. One of the things she had learned early, from Dumbledore, was to never miss a beat. He had taught her that, when being questioned, she was to put more effort into her actions then words.

"For what?" Ron spat, clearly fishing for a legitimate reason to dislike the girl.

"What types of things did you learn?" Remus asked quickly and pleasantly, trying to take away the harsh words Ron had spoken. This was a constant occurrence within the headquarters. One of the younger boys would say something rude or disrespectful only for an older member to try and cover it up. Normally Hermione would, out of respect for her elders, ignore the boys' comments and continue with a polite conversation. However, tonight she broke that tradition and addressed the youngest male Weasley.

"We are in the middle of a war. A war that, without any changes in strategy, will not end anytime soon. I thought it would be obvious that the war itself is enough reason." She answered after swallowing what had been in her mouth. Her schooled expression did not show anything but a woman giving an honest answer. Manipulation of her emotions and facial expressions, she had learned that during her time at the temple.

"So you think that you are so great that you can change the war alone?" Ron retorted angrily.

"Would you like any bread dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked hurriedly, suddenly passing a basket of fresh baked garlic bread towards Hermione.

"No thank you, Mrs. Weasley, and no. I do not think that I can take on this war by myself. However I have trained so I can be as much of help to the light side as possible. However, if it had come to it yes, I would fight this war single handedly." Again, she gave the look of honesty. Which, this time, was not false.

"And how do you know Snape?" barked Harry obviously trying to aid his friend.

"Old friends." She said simply, taking a sip of her water.


	5. No Questions

1**Never leave one for dead**

**Chapter**:5

_**Disclaimer**: I wish Harry Potter was mine but he is not and that makes me sad. Ok so I'm really scared my friend is playing with scissors right next to me and poking my arm. I DO NOT FEEL SAFE!_

Chapter 5: promise, No questions

Hermione walked down the hallway. Dinner had ended nearly an hour ago.

"Why are you following me?" She asked the boy hiding in the shadows. This surprised the boy, Fred. He was a mischief maker, and was proud to have never been caught in action, until now it seemed.

"Where are you going?" he replied. She studied him, and discovered he hadn't changed at all. He was the only one who hadn't. This surprised her with George's death and all. She supposed they had talked before he died, a twins agreement. They always were more mature then they let on. In truth, it scared her to be around Fred. He was the only thing that hadn't changed in her absence. He was the only thing that reminded her of the life she once lived.

"If I show you, will you ask no questions and accept my explanation?" She asked, originally, she had no intention of showing anyone the location that she would constantly disappear off to. However, she needed to hold on to the last bits of Hermione Granger that remained inside of her.

"Alright, I promise." She continued to walk, knowing all the time that Fred was studying her from behind. She was wearing a pair of dark blue flare jeans and a tight black T- shirt that flattered her figure nicely. But, she didn't wear robes. He hadn't seen her wear robes ever, and besides her knowing of the magical world she gave no indication of being a witch.

"We're here," She said. Fred looked around having zoned out on the walk there. They were standing before a dusty bare wall in an abandoned corridor of the house. No one ever came down here besides to stick old boxes back when they had started cleaning the headquarters.

"It's a wall." Fred pointed out, on the off chance, as if he were addressing a two year old. The woman knew he was kidding.

"Mr. Weasley, for a mischief maker that loves secret passageways and trick stairs, you are very gullible to architecture." He stared at her in wonder. He hadn't done any pranks recently and what had she said about passageways? That would be something to think about.

"Black Dog." She stated clearly, walking into the entranceway as it formed in the wall. "This room," she said as Fred looked around. The room had three large arch styled fireplaces along one wall. One of which had been destroyed. There was a very spacious seating area and many work spaces filled with the makings of various pranking materials, some finished and some laying half done. On the far wall there were four portraits of very familiar looking men, three of which were still intact – these portraits were of 17 year old boys that looked remarkable farmilar and the last one was burned to cinders in its frame. Fred knew what this place was but, it was the girl that cleared his suspicions."Was The Marauders Room. They would come here a lot and had charmed it so the ministry could not detect it or the magic that happened in its walls." She ran a hand along one of the unharmed fireplaces like she was in a trance. "Each fireplace can only go to one location and similar the other ends." She looked back up at Fred. "Sirius showed it to me years ago and told me to come whenever I wanted. I don't think that Remus can get in here anymore. The password had been change right before Sirius died, it took me a few days to crack it."

"You knew Sirius?"

"You agreed no questions. But, yes I did, years ago. Maybe a lifetime." She sat down by the fire and gestured for Fred to do the same.

"So, why did you agree to show me this place? Or am I not allowed to ask that?"

"I'm not too sure why." She admitted, ignoring the second part. It was only good natured sarcasm. "I guess, I've realized I lost a part of myself and I want to get it back. I just don't know how." she admitted, all her shields lifted.1 This room seemed to always do that to her. She could feel Sirius's presence in this room, and Fred was the same as ever. Being around her past was a lot harder than she had expected it to be. She could mask her emotions but, and times like this she wished she could, she couldn't make them go away.

Fred just listened.

"I made a promise to him once - the only thing he ever asked me to do for him. Never be someone I'm not. I never planned too, but I guess over time that is what I became. I know that he would be proud of what I am doing, just not how I'm doing it."

"What do you mean?" His voice seemed to remind her that she wasn't alone.

" Nothing, nothing. Tell me about yourself."


	6. Teaching?

**Never Leave One For Dead**

**Chapter:** 6, Teaching DADA

_**Disclaimer**: _I do not own Harry Potter, I am a muggle with nothing interesting to her name.

* * *

Hermione had become friends with Fred. Correction, Alex Rain had become friends with Fred. He still did not know of her true identity. Furthermore, their encounter a week prior had done nothing to change the girl's personality. Hermione was not foolish enough to let one friendship bring back the girl she had been. There were things more important than what she longed to do, more important then looking into your loved ones eyes and not seeing hatred.

Her friendship with Fred was mainly sharing stories. Her stories were considerably, and understandably, more vague. Fred talked about Hogwarts and his family and their friends but, during her time with Fred, what surprised Hermione was that he never once mentioned her name. Hermione Granger was only mentioned as 'Ron's friend' and 'that girl''.

* * *

"Rain!" Someone called from behind her. A very clumsy and loud someone. A very familiar someone.

"Yes, Ron?" She asked, carefully not using his full name. Calling him 'Ronald', would have been the same as holding up a neon sign declaring that she was Hermione Granger. Keeping her facial features and body language indifferent she continued on to her destination, the kitchen. Angered, Ron grabbed her arm and pinned her to the corridor wall. She remained calm and stared him straight in the eye, repeating her earlier statement, "Yes, Ron?".

"I don't know what game you are playing but, this is your warning. Get out, or watch yourself."

"Oh? Humor me. Do tell me what I have done to receive such a lovely treat." Hermione responded, she had been spending to much time with Severus.

"You walk in here, thinking that you are so great. You take _her_ room and do _nothing_! What have you done for the Order? Where were you when people we dying on the battlefield?"

"I have done my time on the battlefield and then some." Hermione answered evenly.

"I'd know if you had." Ron answered coldly.

"Why? Where you there? I was under the impression that you were moping around this house. Wallowing in self-pity over the death of some useless mudblood!" She spat. His grip on her shoulder tighten and his nails started to bite into the muscles on her shoulder blades. Ron made to make a remark but was silenced by her next actions. She grabbed the wrist that was pinning her and twisted it effortlessly. He whimpered in pain and watched her retreating figure. She called back, not facing him , "Oh, and Ron? You don't have to worry, I won't be here for much longer."

* * *

"So Harry, how was your day dear?"

"Good"

"Minerva," Molly said, trying to find conversation elsewhere. "What brings you here? Not that we aren't happy to see you of course."

"I needed to get away from Hogwarts. None of the applicants for the defense against the dark arts position are qualified or trustworthy. Plus, the school year started in nearly two weeks. I have no idea how Albus had managed to find a professor each year." The headmistress admitted.

"What about Alexandra?" Severus Snape said. Everyone in the room went quiet. Snape talking at dinner or not trying to get the position for himself were two very rare events.

"If you can not find anyone then I will," Hermione answered not seeming surprised in the least. "Although, I'm not sure how long I will be able to stay."

"Well," Minerva started clicking back into professional mode. "What are your qualifications?"

"Seven years of traditional education and seven years of studying abroad."

"Any specification in the field?"

"My years of traveling were focused on training to battle the dark arts. I'm sure that Severus could vouch for me to spare you the details."

"If Severus thinks it best, we really don't have many options. Of course, we would need to set up a formal appointment and a wizarding contract would need to be filled out." A wizarding contract was a form that would only accept valid information.

"Why would that be necessary?" She asked, going over the best plan of action in her head.

"Why? Something to hide?" Ron barked.

"Actually, I was curious- however, I believe we all have our secrets."

"Which could not be more true." Severus said placing his napkin onto his plate. "May I propose we take this into the office. Alexandra does have papers to fill out. Correct, Minerva?"

"Yes, yes. Miss. Rain, please fallow me."

* * *

"Miss. Rain, please fill out this form and everything will be finalized." The headmistress spoke handing Hermione the forms.

Hermione took them and started to fill them out.

_Name: N/A_

_Nickname or preferred name: Alexandra (Alex) Rain_

_Age: 24_

_Sex: Female_

_Height: 5'8"_

_Blood type: Muggleborn_

_Subject of Application: Defense against the dark arts_

_Favorite subject in school: Transfiguration_

_Qualifications: Seven years of traditional education with extra classes. Master of five types of muggle fighting styles and trained to fight with various weapons. One year of training with the monks of the hidden mist temple. One year of training with the demon slayers. Two years spent on the Vampire hunt during which I trained with various auroras_ _Aurors were year working with the organization, potions against the dark arts. Trained alchemist and trained in the art of wandless magic by Albus Dumbledore._

After completing the form she passed it wordlessly to the headmistress. Watching carefully as she read it. "Miss Rain, I have never seen as many qualifications on one application form. However, I can not hire you without knowing your name." She stated sternly.

"With all do respect headmistress, seven years ago I dedicated my life to defeating Voldemort. I have done nothing since that moment but train to better myself and increase my chances of doing so. Nothing will stop me from achieving my goal, especially something as trivial as my name."

"Are you aware that there is a prophecy?"

"Headmistress, I know word for word what that prophecy states. Furthermore, I do not think that Harry Potter is the only one that can defeat Tom Riddle." He Headmistress sighed.

"If you have already detected your life to defeating he-who-must-not-be-named, then why do you wish to be a professor?"

"It was what I had always worked towards when I was a student. Plus, Voldemort wont be the last big bad. The next generation needs to be able to defend themselves properly."

"Miss Rain, if you would excuse us we need to discus your employment."

"Very well." She said leaving the room without a sound.

"I don't know if we can trust her." Minerva said slowly.

"We can." Severus spoke clearly and confidently

"But, we don't even know her name!" Minerva protested.

"You are forgetting that I have known her for over fourteen years. She is more then trustworthy Minerva."

"Severus, she has proved time and time again that she knows things that she should not. Like where the headquarters are, past order members and he-who-must-not-be-named real name. She simply knows to much. I have half a mind to _Oblivate _her."

"She knows what people want her to know."

"And that doesn't worry you?" She asked frazzled.

"Not in the least."

"Fine, we have no other options available to us. Inform Miss Rain." The potions master left the professor feeling very old. Minerva sat at her desk staring at the paper. The last line, a line that she had somehow over looked stood out. '_trained in the art of wandless magic by Albus Dumbledore._ '

No doubt remained within the headmistress of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.


	7. Welcome Back

Never leave One for Dead

Chapter 7: Welcome to Hogwarts

Disclaimer: _I do not own Harry Potter in any shape way or form._

* * *

Severus led Hermione through the grand doors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The sound the old doors produced was the same as they had all those years ago. The creaks of the wood and the clicks of the locks almost brought her back the time she could hide behind the safety of the written word. "Minerva requested for me to show you around the school. I hardly think my compliance is required. A simple 'welcome back' will suffice, I believe." He stated in the same tone the little eleven year old witches and wizards feared.

"Thank you." Hermione responded with a mild laugh. "Would you like to take a walk with me? I really would enjoy to see the grounds." She asked lightly, knowing he would stay in her presence. If only to nullify the wrath of the headmistress if she were to learn of his neglect.

"Alright." He said, void of emotion. The quietness between the pair lasted for many moments. A silence they both were comfortable with, each having spend years in isolation.

"You know, the founders put their souls into Hogwarts." Hermione stated, running a hand across the exterior stone wall. "In both life and death." She looked over to her old professor, a look of reminiscence dancing across her features. "When they passed, each stayed with the school. Not a ghosts but they stayed and became Hogwarts." Severus was confused but let the women talk. Had anyone else stated what she was telling him he would have doubted their sanity. This women however, was like the late headmaster, she knew things as truth that others believed were so crazy and out there that they could never be plausible. "Had you ever wondered how the Headmaster always seemed to know that was transpiring within the grounds?" She asked rhetorically. He knew that she would answer for him. "He could talk with them, he could talk with their spirits. That is how he knew." She was smiling freely. The school did her wonders. The question know was if it were a permeant change or a one time occurrence. "Part of my training was the harness that ability to communicate with the founders. Once you master it, it becomes the most natural thing in the world. However, to master it takes much time and effort. At some points in my training I doubted if I would ever complete that part of my training at all. Most of my sixth year was dedicated to my practice of the art." She admitted still staring into what he perceived as the heart of Hogwarts. "Once you master the ability it becomes a constant. You can always hear them, as they can hear you. Unless they are addressing me their words and conversations are whispers, sounds in the distance. He did the same thing, the Headmaster, when he passed he poured his soul into the school he loved dearly. The white phoenix at his funeral was the blast of pure magic that had sealed his soul."

"Can you hear them now?" He asked in a normal voice. They both knew what she was confessing. She needed him to know how uncomfortable being in the school was. How she could no longer run from her past in hopes of attaining her goal. Her past was with her and she needed someone to carry the burden after many years of doing so alone.

"Only so clearly. Being back here is strange. Not hearing them again but, I can't run from them. I can't put up a strong front or hide behind my goals and determinations. They know how and what I think and they do not agree with my methods. Excuse me." She requested turning away from her confident.

The lake was a peaceful spot. Another factor in her life that seemed to not age. The same strong trees swayed in the wind as she watched the giant squid play with some of the young mer people. The things that didn't change scared her the most. That was something she could understand, these things only proved how much she had changed.

'Welcome back dear.' the kind voice of Rowena Ravenclaw greeted. The voice belonged to a poised and wise individual. An undeniable fact.

'What is it that has you retreating to this spot, Miss Granger?' The husky voice of her house founder asked with concern. The lioness was one of his own as he often pointed out, and his concern was not unfounded.

"I am fine Godric, thank you for your concern." Hermione's reply was vocal, she was alone and hearing her own words was an attempt to believe them herself.

'You are a terrible liar.' Salazar mocked. Voice hissing with amusement.

'You are all ganging up on me!' Three of the founders were close to the girl. They had come to care for her and wished to help her in any way that they could. Watching the goings of the school was amusing but, they found that they enjoyed pouring their time into helping the young witch. The one founder that was not happy with the girls ability to hear and communicate with their souls was not the Slytherin founder, but the 'kind' Hufflepuff.

'And with right!' Rowena declared. 'You leave us for seven years and pout when we voice our opinions! Outrageous!' The women teased.

'That's not fair. I have been away with important matters.'

'Yes dear, do hurry and take down my decedent. I may believe that muggleborns are not magically significant but there is no need for a genocide. Just ship them off to some remote island.'

'Your words touch my heart' Her comments were now mental ones. She seemed to like the idea of just laying back, staring at the blue sky. An act she had not preformed in to long.

'Well you know that I don't mean you. You have proven your worth but, you have seen the inability the other posses.' She had given up ages ago on changing the man's views. They all had. At this point his rants became amusing.

'Seven years has done you well.' The voice of her headmaster broke through the sound of Godric's laughter. 'You have grown into a powerful and strong witch. I am proud of you Miss Granger.' She smiled at the sky, knowing that the old man would see her response. The moment was short lived as the smile melted from her face. She seemed to ponder something, barley noticing when the female asked the males to leave the two alone.

'What is the matter dear? What troubles you so?'

"What do you mean?" She asked the wind.

'You look as if your best friend died.' The founder commented. Soon regretting her choice of words.

'They might as well have.'

'You could always tell them. Their knowledge can do nothing to compromise your abilities. I'm sure that you would still be able to take down Tom.' The blue symboled witch voiced.

'That's the part which confuses me. I don't think I want then to know that it is really me. I had planed to tell them that I was well me when he was gone. It was part of the plan since I left, but I don't think that I really want to anymore.'

'Why?'

'They changed.' Her answer was short and to her answered all questions but the elder witch knew that all had to be voiced and heard. She pressed the matter.

'They weren't nice to Alexandra, were they?' Hermione laughed almost bitterly.

'I guess not. However, I am Alexandra. The person I have become is Alexandra. They don't like that person. What is worse is all they do is mope, if I were dead Harry would never have gone to kill Voldemort!' She was outraged at the boys and her fury and venom were only heard by the soul of a women who died hundreds of years before even her ancestors were born.

'Well, then it is a good thing that you are not dead.'


	8. One Powerful Insult

Never leave One for Dead

Chapter 8: One powerful insult

Disclaimer: _I do not own Harry Potter, If I did flying mushrooms with anime style eyes would be the focus of Care of Magical Creatures. _

Note: Hello again. I am sure that by this time you must all hate me. I told you I had many chapters waiting to be updated for you all to enjoy and you were promised them to be update quickly. However, I realized that I was running quickly into a brick wall that would end the story sharply and with a very poor ending. Therefore, the time spent with this story has been altering the future chapters to bring this story to a better structured place. I'm truly sorry for this and if you are still with me and not throwing rocks at me I can not express my gratitude in mere words.

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Whatever time that passed between Hermione's arrival at Hogwarts and the beginning of term did not seem to register to the witch's mind, simply passing in a blur. She was as prepared as the professors whom had been teaching for longer then she had been alive. If possible, the newest member of the Hogwarts staff, may have been even more thoroughly prepared. Her exterior appearance might have been one Alexandra Rain but, she was still Hermione Granger. The Gryffindor bookworm and the brains of the Golden Trio.

Currently seated behind the aged oak desk, Hermione waited for her first class to begin. Headmistress McGonagall seemed to hold the same traditions as the Headmaster of Hermione's time, her first class was a fourth year Gryffindor- Slytherin. The defense classroom was still free of students, they had only moments ago been released from their previous classes. With nearly twenty minutes to kill, the professor entered her office to watch her version of The Map. Nothing bad could come from knowing which students got along and which ones feuded before her lesson begun.

With little to no warning Hermione entered the classroom swiftly resulting in the student body to grow silent, unsure of what to expect. "Put your wands away." She ordered in a tone that reminded her of McGonagall mimicking Snape. "You may address me as Professor Rain or Professor nothing else. This class will not be easy, being able to protect oneself is something not to be taken lightly. In my class you will be learning everything from defensive magic to offensive muggle fighting styles. What you learn within these walls will not be what the Ministry deems age appropriate. You will study what I think will help you are in real life threatening experience. Any questions?"

The fourth years stared at their new professor strangely. The witch's attitude clashed with her appearance. Her tone and body language clearly stated that she was an authority figure that demanded and deserved respect. However, her clothing was not what they were used to professors wearing. Professor Rain was not wearing robes but a pair of light blue jeans and a black knit top. Her heels clicked sharply as she walked and her hair hung freely.

"Are you even a witch?" A student dared to call out. "My father told be about the horrible Defense professors in his day. Knowing McGonagall she stood with tradition." Hermione gave the young boy a dangerously sweet smile.

"Yes, I am a witch, Mr?"

"Zabini." The student answered proudly.

"You seem proud. Are you proud Mr. Zabini?"

"Yes." He replied, uncertain of his answer.

"Good. Pride is a wonderful emotion to feel. You can pride every night at seven for the next two weeks when you serve detention with me." She ignored his look of disbelief and turned back to the class. "Any questions that will not anger me or result in detentions?" A timid hand belonging to a blonde Gryffindor rose into the air. "Yes, miss?"

"Smith. Why are we going to study muggle fighting styles?"

"Good. A question that will educate. How many students in here have ever heard of a duel ending with a person losing their wand?" Almost every hand went up. "This should not be encouraged. In a proper duel when a witch or wizard is disarmed that is the end, no more spells are fired. However, outside of proper dueling many people will take advantage of a disarmed opponent and will kill on the spot. We are currently in a war, and as your professor my job is to prepare you and to equipt you with knowledge that will keep you alive. A wand can be lost, thrown, snapped, stolen, or thoughtlessly left at home. I believe that learning how to protect yourselves even without your wand should be a crucial part of the curriculum." She paused for air but her students seemed to dare not breath. "Unfortunately, we are running out of time. For homework I would like a foot of parchment discussing and analyzing the history of the patronus spell. If you do not know what a patronus is then you would do well to try and research on your own and not with a classmate. This particular spell is very personal, feel free to explain why in your essay. Class dismissed. "

* * *

Severus Snape was seated behind his desk grading papers. In his opinion each year the students seemed to become even more lazy with there academic work. A quick knock on his door provided the head of house with a rarely wanted diversion. One more essay and he was ready to leave his job. "Severus." The guest greeted, perching herself on the top of a student desk.

"Something to drink? Tea? Coffee?" He inquired politely.

"Here on business I'm afraid. A voice inside my head told me it was proper to tell Head of Houses when us mere professors hand out lets say two weeks worth of detention." Hermione hid a snort as said 'voice' objected to being spoken of in such a manner. Salazar Slytherin was always the first to enforce strictly the rules he agreed with or that would provide him amusement.

"What happened?" The wizard asked raising one eyebrow.

"A certain Mr Zabini needs to think before he speaks. I thought that was a valued trait with you Slytherins." She continued on seamlessly as she silently enquired if he had notice the student in question listening at the door. With a very slight nod of confirmation the conversation continued. "An impressive insult, if said insult was not spoken within hearing distance of a professor. In one sentence a previous headmaster, the current Headmistress, seven years of Defense professors, you and myself were insulted." Both educators clearly noticed the intake of breath not 50 feet away.

"Well, Mr. Zabini, it would seem you have two weeks detention."

* * *

Review!


	9. Detention

Never leave One for Dead

Chapter 9: Detention

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did then this story would not be on the internet and the Harry Potter books would not have made nearly as much money.

* * *

At 7:01, he was late

At 7:06, Lee Zabini casually walked into her classroom.

"You're late Mr. Zabini." The Professor stated sternly.

"Sorry." He replied with no remorse or respect.

"An extra day will be added to your list of detentions. If you are late again you will report to Severus. I will not have you wasting my time. Have we reached an understanding?"

"Yes, Professor." The students tone was polite but there was no question that his thoughts contradicted his words.

"Good. For your detention you will be coming with me into the forest. Hagrid believed that there may be vampire bats, or something else picking off the creatures in his care, If we encounter anything you are to stay behind me and remain quiet. Do you understand, Mr. Zabini?" The fourth year nodded, clearly frightened. "Lovely, now follow me."

The forest was dark and damp from the previous day's rainfall. The student was trying to hide his fright, but like Malfoy's had been, Lee's fear was clear. Lightning crashed somewhere in the distance signaling a storm was moving towards Hogwarts. "That storm should be here in a few hours. We will be back at the castle by then." The women stated unperturbed by the incoming storm. "Stay silent." She cautioned when her charge started to grow uneasy after a few feet decent. The area was lit by her magic. In his fright the student did not register the absence of a wand.

The pair had walked for a little over an hour without meeting with any living creatures. "Who are you to tread on our land?" A voice called from beyond the underbrush.

"Forgive us, I am a professor at the school and this is one of my students. We had received word of creatures perhaps vampire bats, which have been creating trouble." She spoke clearly and politely to what she knew to be a centaur.

"You would do wise to leave the matters of the forest to her inhabitants." Snapped that angry centaur.

"Sarina." A second voice called out from the darkness. "You must forgive her. She is young and in times as dark as the ones we walk in, she is untrusting of outsiders." The second centaur stepped out of the darkness unveiling himself as their leader. "The stars foretold your return, but it could not have come soon enough. I am pleased to see you again." The male stated bowing to the Professor. Hermione, trusted the leader to not betray her identity.

"I thank you, for your kind words. A long time has passed since I have heard such. I am please to see you as well, Firenze." Hermione responded nodding respectfully. She knew respect was important to centaurs and when such formalities would not have mattered otherwise, the younger centaurs presence parented them.

"Regrettably, what my kin hath said is true. At the present, matters of the forest should be resolved by her inhabitants. We will take care of your problem."

"You have my gratitude, Firenze"

"Yes, I must now part with you. In the future I wish to speak with you without an audience of our youth."

"Until then." She said with another nod turning to leave with her student.

Hermione escorted her student to the outside of the Slytherin common room without any parting words. She left him wondering on the events of the night. When the leader of the centaurs, such a noble and proud breed would bow before this women. A women he had shown such disrespect towards.


	10. Paintball

Never Leave One for Dead

Chapter ten: Paint ball

Disclaimer: Hmmm, the thought that I could possible own Harry Potter... HA!

* * *

Almost a month had passed since the beginning of the school year and everything had been running smoothly. Professor Rain had been deemed, "A rarely qualified defense against the dark arts professor". She had also gained the respect of the student body including the Slytherins. This was no easy feat for a person such as her who was openly against Voldemort. However she had managed. Over the time Alexandra, once Hermione, had spent at Hogwarts she had been able to successfully detach herself once more. The momentary lapse of emotional control was chalked up to be cause to the shock of her return as well as her friendship with Severus. Said friendship had grown during the women's career at Hogwarts and was not to the Headmistresses's liking. Minerva would explain her disapproval to the rest of her staff, explaining that she blamed the friendship for her DADA Professor's antisocial tendencies towards the rest of the staff. Secretly, the ex transfiguration professor was impressed with the girl's natural teaching ability.

Even with the consistency of her current life Hermione found certain parts of her job unsettling. She turned to Severus and also the founders with her worries and found quiet the same answers. Hermione was not sure if she could handle teaching students that she knew would turn around and fire on their classmates. She knew that the very students she taught would stand on opposite sides of a war that she did not agree with. Had the same situation not happened with her own year? Had she not faced off against the likes of Parkinson, Goyal, Crabb and even the once trusted Terry Boot? Severus more then the founders understood her concern. Having lived so long as a double spy he had taken to dealing with this situation with favoritism. If he could not openly help the side he wished to win he would help them in secret. The potions Professor manipulated him classroom to teach his students about the real world and when the grades did not reflect it his cruel comments and high standards for three of the school houses often yielded more proficient potion students. The founders talked to her in length about how no student's path was yet paved and that she could steer them in the right direction. They explained that this was as much apart of her job as teaching them the spells they would need in life. Hermione disagreed with this stamen for the most part. She was more then willing to help any student that came to her but most Slytherins were set in their ideals that her time could be sent teaching the students that would do good. But as she formed connections with students on both sides she started to dislike this war on whole new levels.

"Good morning class." Professor Rain greeted her first class of the day. Multiple replies could be heard each laced with enthusiasm for the Professor of their favorite Professor. The strict atmosphere that allowed for fun while learning made Hermione proud. This was everything she had once hoped for, even if that hope was for only a little while. "Alright well let's just jump right in. For today's lesson we will be working on target practice. This is going to work in a similar fashion as a muggle game called paint ball. Can anyone tell me how the muggle game works?" A sixth year Slytherin girl raised her hand, much to the surprise of the rest of the class.

"The game consists of individual or team play," she started as she was called on. "Each player had a gun which fires out small amounts of paint. Scoring and elimination varying on the style of play."

"Very good, ten points to Slytherin. We will be doing something similar on the pitch. The way it is going to work is I will give you a fake wand. These wands were designed for us by Fred Weasley. The paint colors will start out being your house color to eliminate confusion until you guys understand the set rules better. The pitch has been set up with obstacles, rocks, and trees are present to shield yourself along with variations in the earth that may or may not help you with your footing. Each team will start at opposite sides of the field. When a person is hit they will sit in the bleachers and their wands will no longer shoot paint. Any questions? No? Alright." With a wave of her hand wands appeared before each student. "To fire all you have to say is shoot. The want will not work until I blow the whistle. Now please stay together and we will all head down to the pitch."

By dinner the entire student population was covered in multiple colors of paint. After classes they had been able to use the field with their own teams and changed the paint colors with each round. They all had fun but what many didn't realize in their excitement was that they were honing their skills as wizards. Also, throughout the process as teams were formed new friendships were formed between houses as they worked together and helped teach their peers and also the younger students.

"Interesting class today Alexandra." Severus commented in an off handed manner.

"Yes dear, why did you have the children shoot themselves with paint? Someone could have been hurt! Madame Pomfrey added frazzled."

"The shock ans chaos one experiences during their first time in battle is one of the most horrific sights anyone will ever experience and has killed many witches and wizards. This lesson had prepared them for half of it and also improved their aim in the process." She answered unhappy at Severus for bringing up her lesson at the staff table.

"But, someone could have gotten hurt!" The school nurse protested again, ferociously protective of 'her' children.

"I assure you no student was in danger." Hermione replied nearly bored as she defended her decision. The situation was almost sad as she realize that if she was being called Hermione and not Alexandra they would have been praising her lesson. "Now if you would excuse me I have papers that need grading." She stood and left the great hall not making a sound as she walked the aisle to the double doors.

"I quite enjoyed today's lesson Miss Granger." The voice of her former Headmaster stated just as she sat behind the desk many had used before her. Before responding Hermione started with her grading.

"I thought that you would Headmaster." A wrong answer was marked.

"I have told you many times my dear Hermione, call me Albus."

"You will always be my Headmaster." She declined and swiftly changed the topic of discussion. "Do you believe the student are prepared enough."

"No. No one will ever be prepared for war. I fear that the number will be very high when the war arrives."

"The war is nearly on our doorstep." She sighed and put down her quill to rub her brow instead.

"Ah, so you feel the approach as well." Albus Dumbledore observed. "All you can do is prepare them as best you can." He continued as his last statement needed no confirmation. "You have been doing an excellent job at this. I am glad that you have joined the Hogwarts staff. For a time I feared that you would not."

"I just wish that I could do more to prepare them." The compliment so few deserved was completely ignored.

"They are learning from you."

"But not enough and certainly not soon enough. I have trained non stop for nearly seven years and I scarcely feel prepared. I have no delusions that I will walk away alive." She was only speaking the truth but it made the headmaster quite for longer then she would have liked.

"Does that scare you?"

"Not if I take Voldemort down with me."

"Why?"

"Because no one else will." It was the sad truth of the matter. The very people the wizarding world now depended on gave up faith in themselves and have all but admitted defeat.

"Miss Granger,"

"Yes."

"Live through this." He ordered.

"Why." She mimicked his earlier question. He had known that she wanted to take Voldemort down before she died and she knew that he didn't want her to die but the answers were not what the other really believed they would be.

"Minerva wont live forever." A sad silence filled the room. Not because Minerva did not have immortality but because Hermione didn't believe she would live and that dream he laid out in frount of her belonged to a girl who had died years ago.


	11. An Angry screaming Red Head

Chapter eleven: An angry screaming red head

Disclaimer: Nothing has changed... still not mine... I want a pop tart.

* * *

"Today, class, we will be reviewing the material that we have covered this past quarter. Now – "

But the students didn't get to hear her instructions. Instead, they got to witness the performance of an angry red head bursting into the classroom, evidently uninvited.

"May I help you?" The professor asked, controlling her voice to keep the pitch professional. Ronald Weasley had no business in her classroom. One wrong step and she could be tempted to show him just that.

"You bitch! How dare you take a teaching position at Hogwarts and not take the job seriously!" Ron yelled out at her. "You are probably working for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and are purposely not preparing them properly so that He will win!" The male accused, pointing his finger at her as if it were the business end of his wand.

With only a withering glare in his direction, Hermione turned towards her class. A sheet of paper appeared on every desk.

"Take these papers and answer the review questions by tomorrow. That's it for today."

The class left in silence. The students knew what it meant to anger Ron Weasley or Harry Potter. If one of the two didn't trust you then the not-so-secret Order of the Phoenix didn't trust you either. Their beloved professor would lose her job. The kids left the classroom appearing disheartened, an odd sight. Once all of the kids had passed through the doorway and were out of hearing range, Hermione turned towards her visitor.

"How dare you," she hissed in a cold voice, "burst into my classroom and yell at me in front of my students, accusing me of associations with Voldemort." Ron shuddered at the name and Hermione found herself disgusted, but did not lose an ounce of momentum. "How dare you talk to me in such a disrespectful manner. Do you have any grounds for such an outrageous accusation?"

"Your lessons are bogus!" He screamed. "My niece owled me about this paint ball crap you've started."

"Jessica? Jessica Thomas?" She questioned. Jessica was a small little thing and while she did look a bit like Ginny she had a mousey brown hair and Hermione had only assumed that she was Dean's girl.

"Yes!"

"She loved the lesson," the witch stated blankly.

"I don't care if it was the best bloody day of her life! You are here to teach them to defend themselves!" His voice was very reminiscent of Molly Weasley's howler in their second year. If Hermione had not been so pissed off she might have been tempted to laugh a bit.

"Yes, and that is exactly what I do. Fortunately, I do not need to waste my time defending myself against you. Leave my classroom. Now."

"I'm going to tell McGonagall about your 'lessons' and you will be sacked," he said it smugly, the way a child would act, had he just been given a piece of candy, and this made her incredibly sad. Was this really the man the wizarding world depended on to keep their savior alive?

"Oh Merlin, how did Hermione ever put up with you?" She asked, honestly wondering how she had managed to deal with him for so long. But she also knew that the words spoke strongly of bitterness and regret.

A moment later she was at wand point. "Don't you _ever_ say that name," he ordered in a deadly voice. It didn't faze her one bit. Maybe she had been in danger one to many times during her training.

"Why? She's dead and she would be ashamed of the way you've been acting," she spat.

"How – "

"Dare I? You speak so highly of her, if you speak of her at all. She'd be embarrassed by your behavior, the way you drown in your own self pity. You're disgusting," the professor spat venomously. The red head looked like he would have preferred to be slapped in the face.

Ron yelled with more anger than Hermione had ever seen him possess before, "You don't know a thing about her, and you don't know anything about magic, you filthy mudblood!"

"You're wrong," she spoke mildly, staring oddly at Ron due to the momentum of his anger, "I did know Hermione. You're right about one thing: I am a mudblood. So was Hermione. Now, if you would excuse me I have a meeting to attend," she left him speechless. That was and always would be her specialty.

"Minerva, you wanted to see me?" Hermione asked lightly, taking the seat opposite of the Headmistress.

"Yes, you are late," the Headmistress said, a bit too harshly for Hermione's liking.

"My apologies. I got held up by an angry red head."

"Yes, Mr. Weasley has been very upset about your employment here, as has Mr. Potter. They seem to think that you are living Miss Granger's life," The Headmistress responded gravely.

"Their opinions matter very little to me. Shall we move on to why I am here?"

"For the same reason. The boys don't trust you and I am afraid that I can no longer employ you without knowing your true identity."

The defense professor could do nothing but laugh.

"Ms. Rain, what, if may I ask, is so funny?" The Headmistress was using the voice reserved for students out after curfew and Hermione had to fight from laughing harder.

"Tell me Minerva, do you have any power in the Order at all, or are you their puppet?"

"I hold my own concerns towards your presence here," the elder witch replied, clearly flustered.

"Then you have your solution. Fire me," Minerva seemed to age years in only a heartbeat.

"The thing is that you are the most qualified professor we have had since Remus Lupin taught here," she answered honestly, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Then we are in a difficult situation," Hermione reclined back in her chair. The real shame was she didn't care what the outcome of this meeting would be.

"Why can't you tell me who you are?"

"That would just cause me problems, annoyances and headaches."

"I am only asking you to tell me."

"That would do no good. I did what was required and I informed an Order head. Besides, I don't want any emotional ties," Dumbledore's voice whispering in her ear to tell the Headmistress everything she kept hidden did nothing to stop her oncoming headache.

"I'm sorry Headmistress. If my current standings intimidate the order then I will vacate the area immediately," she made to leave but was stopped by a question.

"Is your identity so important that you would walk away?" The tone was cold and that only made Hermione's resolve stronger.

"Normally, no. But I have seen things that make me think that none of this is important."

"And what might those be?"

"I made it quite clear when I took up employment here that the only thing of importance to me is Voldemort's downfall," she spoke harshly, causing her company to flinch. It was really too bad that she had already lost her respect for the woman. "I had hoped," she continued, "that I would have the Order standing strongly beside me. Instead, when I returned I found the Order reduced to a weak organization run by two irrational, pig headed, love sick, prejudiced, lazy, _moping_ pricks who do nothing but weep in their own self-pity, all because of one insignificant girl."

"Hermione was – "

"Exactly, was. Hermione Granger is gone and her stupid memory is only getting in the way. In case any of that was unclear, I_ quit_."


	12. Letter

Never Leave One for Dead

Chapter 12: Letter

Disclaimer: I only own my stories not the main creations and verses they are created in.

* * *

"What happened?" Severus nearly growled at his fellow Order leader.

"She wouldn't tell me her name and you know the rest." The Headmistress said sighing.

"Why did you even question her? I told you she could be trusted. I had given you my word." He spoke in a furry of anger.

"Yes, but the boys-"

"The boys do not run the Order! I should have had a say in this." He growled leaving to find the Professor that he would hopefully be able to convince to stay.

* * *

Hermione left the Headmistresses office and made her way to her own. With a quick spell everything was packed and Hermione sat down to write a letter.

'Miss Granger, you shouldn't have made such a hasty decision.' The previous Headmaster scolded.

'It was not a hasty decision.' The woman replied quickly and in a clipped tone before tuning him out of her head and starting on the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I am sure that a letter by my hand is the last thing you expected or wanted to receive but please hear me out. I'm leaving Hogwarts, it is sooner then I had expected but the Headmistress or Mr. Weasley and yourself do not trust me. I understand your concern but I must act upon my own concerns and keep my identity a secret. At least until Tom Riddle meets his end. I find it humorous that Severus is the person who trusts me. However, I don't believe you will share that humor with me for quite awhile. This letter is to ask a favor of you. As you have gathered I'm leaving and that leave an open teaching position. The most important position as we are both aware. I want someone I trust teaching the children to protect themselves. Even if that person does not trust me in return. I have lessons for the rest of the year planned and descriptions of purpose for some of the more unconventional lessons. Please consider taking the job. The key to my office and the method through my wards have been enclosed.

Simply, Signed.

Reading over her letter and seemingly satisfied with her wording Hermione sent her owl away and grabbed her things.

"There is no use Severus. You know as well as I that I should have gone a long time ago." She spoke to the man that was blocking the exit of her classroom. "I lasted a few months." She added almost proudly.

"How do you plan on destroying him?" Severus Snape asked stepping further into the classroom but still effectively blocking her escape.

"I have a few ideas." She admitted setting her luggage down and leaning against the front of her desk. Hermione was about to continue when she abruptly looked down to the floor, losing herself in thoughts. Severus waited for her to continue hoping that she was rethinking her departure. Moments later she looked at him. "Do you think I can defeat him?"

"Are you questioning yourself?" He asked perhaps more harshly then was required.

"No, I am questioning you. Are you planning on helping me." The potion master didn't seem to have a reply but nodded after a few moments of rushed thoughts. "Good," She decided. "I have something I need you to do for me."

Severus Snape was a man rarely surprised but when Hermione Granger had asked him to steal Harry Potter's wand he was considerably shocked. Regardless, he agreed to do everything in his power to fulfill the request.

"Hermione, there is something you need to know." Hermione ignore the use of her name, knowing that no one would be able to overhear them when they were safely in her office. Instead she stared at him sharply. Severus read this look as, 'Why are you not letting me go?'

"The Order had located and destroyed all of His horcruxes." His voice was detached as if he was reciting something that held no importance.

"And Voldemort's power had increased." The witch concluded unsurprised. "I suspected as much. Why was I not informed of this matter sooner?"

"The Dark Lord hasn't found out."

"You used my work." She mentioned blankly.

"Yes, after you 'died' the Order found all of you research. What the objects were, where there were located and how to destroy each of them without alerting the Dark Lord in the process. Your research really helped the Order."

"Voldemort knows, the spell wasn't complete. This only makes things more difficult. Just get the damn wand." She spoke harshly. That anger might not have been directed at Severus Snape but he felt it like a wave of power as she pushed past him to start on the path that would lead her far away from the school.

* * *

Many miles away a man with a lightning bolt scar on his head sat reading a letter that he received by means of an unfamiliar owl.

"Maybe she does care." He spoke softly with no one around to hear his conclusion.


	13. one week

Never Leave One for Dead

Chapter 13: one week

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the location indicated in this chapter.

* * *

Over the years Hermione has been known to manipulate countless people. This is one of her Slytherin traits that she is actually quite fond of. However, her most recent endeavor left her with the nearly forgotten feeling of guilt lingering inside of her. She couldn't care less for the emotions of Harry Potter and really didn't care if she was added to the list of people who had manipulated him over the years. However, Hermione was still loyal to the adolescent boy he once was, a boy who had a saving people complex and ran head first into the nearest danger. For that reason alone, she felt guilty.

She had moved him, like a piece on a chess board. Now, thanks to one partially sincere letter the boy who lived was at Hogwarts. Exactly where he needed to be for Severus Snape to acquire his wand. Worse, Harry Potter would never see it coming.

Severus Snape, her accomplice in her current plans, was a man that Hermione would never manipulate. The manipulation of the Slytherin had been one of Dumbledore's more embarrassing traits. This was because Severus is an honorable man underneath all those layers of black. More importantly he is not a man who does not need or appreciate being manipulated. Especially because he is always aware of when said manipulation is occurring.

Hermione estimated that it would take Severus a week tops to obtain Potters wand. Until then she would wait.

Her current location, a cabin belonging to the alias Keira Cromwell was one of her favored properties. The nearest town being over sixty miles to the west suited Hermione just fine. Solitude had adopted the witch nearly as fully as the library at Hogwarts had all those years ago.

By mid afternoon Hermione was on a walk along the water's edge. The pond was only minutes away from her residence and reminded her heavily of Hogwarts. In no way did she miss the professors, students, ghosts, centaurs or the voices in her head. After all those years, she is simply to much of a solitary creature to truly miss anyone. What she did miss was teaching and the brief glance into a past life that hadn't been all that bad.

An owl found her on her second trip around the pond's perimeter, the owl holding a letter written in a familiar script,

_Regretfully Potter has come to Hogwarts to compensate for your departure. Must you cause my life to become more miserable? I am a Slytherin and I know when people are behind the actions of others. I do not appreciate your stunt. _

_Regardless, you will have your request completed by the end of the week,_

_ SS_

That night she cooked ramen but forgot to eat it until it had already turned cold.

A week, then it begins again.


	14. Radar

Never Leave One for Dead

Chapter 14: Radar

Disclaimer: I regret to inform you that not all wishes come true.

The theft of a person's wand is a very serious offence. The action is easily a thousand times worse than the action of identity theft. This is because not only does a wand hold someone's magical signature but a wand is also a vessel of stored power. Furthermore, a witch or wizard without a wand becomes completely defenseless. Therefore, the fact that Harry Potter was meant to be at Hogwarts in this unfortunate state became an overlooked convenience.

Thousands of miles away, Harry Potter's long thought dead best friend, held his wand. The wand was comfortable in her hand, as comfortable as her own wand but, this did not surprise her. Commonly, any wand with a master will reject any form of magic that does not have the signature of it's master. However, neither Harry nor Hermione had grown up in the magical world. Therefore they had never had the preconceived notion that it was impossible or even odd for another witch or wizard to be compatible with more than one wand. Throughout their time as friends they had used each others wands for various reasons. Never once did they think on this, but years later Hermione had a very different view on what had happened. A magical signature is molded as a child grows until they reach adulthood. In school, when they had commonly used the other's wand, they had essentially been conditioning them to work for two masters. That oversight was about to win the war for them.

Hermione ran her hands over the polished wood. Apparently, Harry had finally started to take care of his wand. With her own vine wand, she cast multiple spells directly at a particularly horrible scratch which had occurred some night in their third year. There, where the wand was most vulnerable, she cast anti summoning spells, anti tracking spells and every spell, dark or otherwise, that she could think of to make sure she would keep possession of his wand for the time being. The Order would be in an uproar when their savior's wand was lost. They would be jumping through hoops to find it and Hermione Granger was going to be sure that no such thing would happen.

Effortlessly, Hermione packed up what she would need for her endeavors. Packing was nothing short of second nature to the witch at this point. She had been packing all her life, especially during the past seven going on eight years. She left the small property that she owned off the coast of France and headed towards a small town nearby. From there she would set out to Wizarding Britain.

During her years of her training, Hermione had purposely kept a tarnished reputation. The witch made innumerable contacts all over the world because no matter what the ministry or the Order believed, Voldemort's influence was vast. In most locations she would gain the interest of Voldemort after some time and she was careful to always slip away before she was to prominent on his radar. A few times her disappearance had been a bit to close to the time Voldemort came to recruit and on these occasions she had quite the time losing her tracking party. No matter the hassle those occurrences had caused, they were crucial because now it would not be difficult to get close to Voldemort. The only question was how did she want to do things?

One option involved choosing one of her old aliases and resurfacing. Once word of her reappearance reached Voldemort she would be taken to their lord. Option two included showing interest in joining the ranks of death eaters. All she would need to do with that plan is flirt with a creep and ask to be taken to his master. Hermione chose option one… she really disliked creeps. Said creeps never kept their hands to themselves.

The name Rebecca Crownsworth, a common but pure surname, soon filtered around the shady dealings of several undergrounds. The woman who had been a part of several illegal potion rings had disappeared unannounced three years ago. What had kept her name alive was the manner of which she left. Common knowledge stated that The Dark Lord had not yet gone searching for the beautiful women. Furthermore, when she left she had not taken the potions of value that had been rightfully hers from the Potion smuggling. Everything in her flat, which had been searched by both light and dark forces, was still there. She had disappeared.

Frankie Peggs, a half-blood bartender that constantly feared for his life during his dealings with shady Pure-Bloods, was the first to hear from her. "Guess it is to much to hope that my flat is still available." She had said, motioning for him to bring her a drink. Just like that, with some off handed comment and a fire whiskey neat, the preferred drink of or a one Ms. Crownsworth, she was back on the radar.


	15. Getting closer

Never Leave One for Dead

Chapter 15: Getting closer

Disclaimer: Wouldn't it be nice if we asked and did receive.

Hermione never did like the living space of Rebecca Crownsworth and was not very happy that her newly acquired apartment was eerily reminiscent of those same rooms. This place had a distinguished view of the west facing bricks of the bar next door and was located on the seventh floor of the Magic Kinta Apartment Complex. Everything in the rooms was impersonal, making the green focused rooms look like an expanded version of a cheap hotel room. But, her distaste was not an issue because she really didn't plan on staying long.

With sure steps in her three inch designer heals, Hermione walked to bathroom to finish getting ready. Her dress was the darkest shade of red that many might incorrectly suggest was the color of blood. The top was the fit of a corset which enhanced her figure without making her look like the cheap prostitutes that were regular visitors to this particular area. The bottom of the dress flowed to her knees in what would have been an innocent cut had the top looked any different. This mirror painted the appearance of Rebecca in all her high cheek boned glory and her midnight locks pulled up in an elaborate twist.

In the small area laced with dark magic, it had only taken a matter of hours for her name to circulate. Everyone that had been here all those years ago wanted to know where the witch had gone off to, however it was not in a Slytherin's nature to be direct. Furthermore, it was not in her nature to offer that information when being coaxed. Therefore, her disappearance was still laced in mystery.

Tonight, like every night, the important people - those which connections - could be found at Myrin Tavern. That was where she was heading, with a hidden wand and another tucked away in the realms of nothing to await summoning.

The establishment was only a block away from her current residence and she walked there with a confidence that drove away all that were dubbed unworthy. Only the higher ups in the dark chains would dare approach her. The bartender at Myrin's was a pureblood. The owner of the bar wouldn't dare hire anything else. Hermione knew better than to order her own drink.

"And what is such a women like you drinking these days?" A tall primly dressed gentlemen asked. Hermione knew that looks could be deceiving, proven by the fact that she had once worked side by side with this man in the mist of illegal potion smuggling.

"Charles," she greeted smoothing down imaginary creases by the neck of his robes. She shifted where she perched on the dark wooden stool to get a better look at her once almost friend. "You know my drink." He laughed and returned only minutes later with her fire whiskey, neat.

"You know I didn't expect to ever see you again after you took off like you had." She eyed the man that was seated beside her drinking his own liquor. She wondered why he seemed so sure that she had taken off and not been taken off. The wondering ended there because there was no point to ask when she could end the topic with one indulgent smile.

"Ah, a women of mystery still. I can work with that." He gave her the type of smiles girls dream about and she allowed her eyes to smile for her.

"Well, tell me dreamer, what have you been up to? I heard that a certain someone's operation got busted out sometime ago." She made it a teasing statement but in honest terms she had been just as surprised to see him. Hermione had thought for sure he would be hold up in a cell somewhere.

"Oh what money can buy. It seems that freedom does have a price tag." Hermione laughed a laugh that was not hers and continued to listen. "I've started up the operation again. New connections, same clients. After all, you can never tell who is a rat these days." Hermione's laugh turned in to a genuine and very feminine laugh thinking about how you could never tell when a rat was a man these days either. "Our connections are a lot higher this time; more exclusive." He was talking about death eaters and Hermione decided to play it like a turn on.

She eyed him with a sensual glaze as she carefully set her glass down. Her arm snaked around his arm to gently caress the inside of his forearm where the dark mark was sure to be. "How interesting." She purred.

The pair left the bar together.


	16. May Be the Time

Chapter Sixteen: May be the time

When Charles woke up the next morning, he expected to find himself alone with an unoccupied space completely void of warmth beside him. He found just that. When he slipped on his black silk boxers and confidently strode into his living room, he was unsurprised to find a trail of his clothing. When he then continued into the kitchen, he expected to find a dark room and an empty fridge. He was wrong. The kitchen was well lit, with the curtains drawn open, and Rebecca was sitting at his table sipping a cup of tea, while acting to all the world as if there were not several breakfast dishes displayed on the table before her. The witch was also dressed differently than he would have imagined. She was not wearing the sexy little number from the night before, nor was she wearing one of his own garments. Instead, she was dressed in a feminine set of business robes.

"You're still here." He stated, not moving from his place in the door way. Throughout all of their previous encounters, she had never stayed until morning. And they had fallen together quite a number of times in the past. Furthermore, Rebecca was not the type of a person to change routine.

"Would you like me to go?" The women responded, cocking her head to the side with feigned innocence. Her tea cup had been placed back onto the table, but she did not rise.

Recovering from the unexpectedness of the situation, Charles regained his footing as a gentlemen. "Of course not." He decided against pointing out that she had never stayed before. After all, he was the man who once pleaded to make them more than a strand of one night stands. "I'm glad you stayed." He found a place at the table next to her and started to fill a plate.

"Hmm." She hummed shortly, an indulgent sound.

"It's been awhile, hasn't it?" He had missed her, she knew.

"Not too long, I suppose. I don't really take to staying in one place for long."

"I tried finding you." His words didn't gain a response at first. She only traced the rim of her cup.

"I know." She settled finally. She did know, but by then she had already been living as Lauren Maxwell, the daughter of a well known researcher in France.

"Why did you leave?" She didn't like his questioning. She never had. For all of his confidence, and his Slytherin structure, he was rather blunt and clingy at times.

"I told you, I don't take to staying in one place for long." Her voice was prim - the voice of pureblooded Rebecca Crownsworth.

"And if you do enter into the game again?" The game was the underground potions ring that he had renewed. They had only talked about it in a warped, dark version of pillow talk, but they had talked about it. Entering into the service this time would bring her right to the door of Voldemort. This was what she wanted, but he only knew this as a permanent bind to one place.

"I basically invented the game." She toyed, tracing invisible patterns on his forearm - the arm without the mark.

"He won't let you leave." His voice was strong, nearly protective, and he was taking this conversation a lot more seriously than she was. But she couldn't take the conversation seriously, because she knew a bit more about herself than he did.

"Maybe it is time that I stay in one place for a bit longer." She was cruel, giving him the false hope that she would stay. Because for all his shady dealings, she was a bit fond of the man, even if she did refuse to allow herself to become close with him. Regardless, her one and only priority was to rid the world of the man who fancied himself a Dark Lord.


	17. Payback

Chapter Seventeen: Payback

That very night, Hermione - dressed in her perfected disguise - was being lead through various corridors, each seeping with residual dark magic. The place was filthy. Dungeons were the types of places where she would have never allowed her operation to be handled.

Charles chuckled at the look of disgust on her face. "Not what you are used to, Love?" The other gentlemen walking with them pretended not to be paying attention. Hermione scowled at the name, but Rebecca pretended not to hear it.

"Has this what the trade has become? Have we fallen so low that now instead of just in secret, our conditions have become barbaric?"

"We have more opportunities than we had then." Charles had carefully been referring to everything as theirs. A false empire, and a poor reason for her to stay by his side.

"For what price? If your clientele has so greatly improved, then why does the location not reflect that?"

That same clientele had yet to be announced, and she was just waiting for her partner to fall into one of her traps to get him to reveal names. "Mr. Malfoy has been most generous in providing us with our accommodations." He was afraid or in awe of the elder man - perhaps both. It was a shame, because she would have pegged Charles as the better man.

"Generous indeed, placing us in filth." She mocked the location in honest disgust, hoping that they might fall upon their hosts if they overheard. They didn't. Pity.

"Calm yourself; such words are dangerous here." Charles was not amused, but their escort was. At least her words would reach the ears she wished would hear them.

"I'm sure." Her tone was as clipped as the sounds her heels made on the stone floor.

They continued in silence until they reached the stairs that would bring them to their clients. "His Lord is waiting for you just up these stairs." Their escort was obviously not permitted to follow them up. This fact worked in her favor. That was one less wand to oppose her. As instructed, both she and Charles handed over their wands to the one who would stay behind.

The stairs extended upward several flights, all in a circular fashion, which was eerily reminiscent of the Headmaster's office at the school. She wondered if Tom thought the same thing when he traveled the same path. It took a while - an oddly pleasing occurrence - because making Tom Riddle wait for anything was a pleasing experience.

They reached the door at the very top, and Charles knocked in a mannered fashion. Hermione - Rebecca - would have let herself in.

"Enter." A hiss called out the order. They did, entering through the magically opening door.

They walked directly up to the four creatures waiting for them. The elder Malfoy, a nameless death eater, Tom Riddle, and his pet snake, who he mirrored in appearance.

Charles dropped to the floor in a full set bow, kissing the hems of the half blood with a fearful respect. Rebecca allowed a regal curtsy, dignified and mildly mocking. Lord Voldemort was intrigued. Charles was terrified.

"Rebecca Crownsssworth, a woman I have heard much about." Charles remained on the floor, but his companion stood surely and confidently. She was quickly losing the mild respect she once held for her sometimes partner.

"I have heard much about you as well my Lord." Much indeed; the foul loathing of your once to-be-destroyer, disappointed stories of the elder wizard you once feared, whispered hatred of a collected order, praises from a dark underworld, worship from wealthy dark men.

Silently, a thanks went out to a dark hero who inspired the need to learn how to protect the mind.

"Sssweet wordsss." He teased. It was disgusting. But as she lowered her head in a false respect, her eyes could take in the position of each individual in the room. Charles would be the last to worry about. He would need to gain his footing, and would hesitate to attack because it was her and because he had no wand. Malfoy had positioned himself at her back, so he would have to be dealt with third, but she knew to duck and fall right. Nameless didn't have the build for speed, but he was at her left. A roll would avoid both his and Malfoy's shots. The animal snake would sit by his master's side, ready to strike. She would need to go down first, while the wands were being dealt with. Then Voldemort would die.

"True words, my Lord." She spoke smoothly. Chances were that she would die here tonight, but that was no reason to lose her dignity.

"And why are you here? Have you come to ssserve?"

"I have, my lord."

"Yet you fled when you were called upon before." Malfoy sneered. She did not turn to face him. She spoke to the man who she would pledge a false loyalty to.

"Called when, my Lord?"

"Asss you carried out your flight." His eyes were searching hers and she filled Rebecca's eyes with the honesty of a loyal Slytherin. "But that is neither here nor there. Ssstep forward my child."

She stepped towards him with her head lowered in respect. He was seated on a throne, which was quite tacky in the current setting. Furthermore, he was displeased that she now towered over him. "Kneel." He barked his order, and she allowed herself to drop to her knees with a painful thud. "Give me your arm."

She did.

He drew his wand, pointing it at her unblemished forearm, and the tip burned.

She twisted her arm, grasping his own, which was held in a lose grip because of the angle. Mumbling a chant that had taken seven years to prefect, Tom Riddle's wand was replaced with Harry Potter's wand, and twisted out of his grasp.

He jumped to his feet. She rolled, narrowly missing two killing curses and sending her own at the striking snake.

A part of Tom Riddle died.

She teleported in an ancient way that only the founders knew how to teach. For all of Tom's worship of the founders and his imitation of their wards, he knew very little of their abilities. She was behind Nameless, and then he was stabbed - killed muggle style by a blade that had held her hair.

"Traitor!" Malfoy had yelled, but his wand was not pointed at her. His wand was aimed the man who had just regained his footing. A man with no wand. A silver light literally tore apart his flesh in deep portions.

"Kill her!" Voldemort ordered, cursing in the snake's language while sending lower level curses, which were all that he could manage without his phoenix cored wand.

Only one of Voldemort's curses hit, burning her stomach as she teleported again, but it was preferable to the killing curse that she had avoided.

Now she was behind Malfoy. He dropped by magical means, after her wand emitted a green flash.

The two left standing circled each other. Having no wand prevented Voldemort from calling his other death eaters. "I could have made you great." He sneered. "You could have ssstood by my ssside as we rid the earth of the disssgusssting mugglesss and their sssympathizersss."

"You already tried to rid the world of me." Three killing strikes were sent towards him, but he avoided them all. The fourth he did not. He dropped. Three more killing curses, and a dagger through the heart assure her that he was dead. And the incineration of the body was just another precaution. Because it is important to make sure that you never leave your enemies for dead.


	18. Well Done

Chapter 18: Well done

With the multiple assurances that she was not making the same mistake her victim once had, Hermione allowed herself a breath. Only a short few seconds of collection, because the pulses of the others had to be checked. First the snake. Unsure of how to go about it, the creature was set aflame like her master. Nameless lay pulse-less and bloody; she had met her mark - his artery. Malfoy had no pulse. His eyes were open and lifeless, as were every other persons' eyes after sharing the fate of that curse, minus Potter. Charles was alive - although barely, and not for long.

He stared at her, his eyes unmasked fully, and for the first and only time, showing love. "Who are you?" He asked as his mouth leaked blood.

She smiled sadly at the man that she never and would never have loved. She smiled at one of the only friends she had. She smiled at the man who was dying. She smiled at the man she was losing.

"Hermione Granger." She answered honestly. One of the only honest things she had ever told him.

"He killed you." He choked.

Hermione laughed a watery laugh. "Believing that was his very first mistake."

Charles failed to laugh, "What was his second?" His voice was weak.

"Trusting a woman who can walk in three inch heels." She joked, her hand cradling the side of his face. He leaned into the touch.

"I trusted you."

"You weren't supposed to die." An honest reply.

"Not so bad." A rasp, barely an echo of noise. "Can I see you?" She could allow a dying man his last wish. For the first time in a long time, she took her natural appearance.

Her bushy hair - which she had always been told would calm down as she aged - was still bushy. The wild hair was flattering to her mature features in a way that the hairstyle had never been when she was younger. Her eyes - which were back to the brown color no one had seen in years - held the maturity and power that she had accumulated. Her body, smaller then the one she had presented herself in, was hidden under layers of oversized fabrics. To Charles, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He would have told her so, but his last breaths were stolen by involuntary choking.

The time for tears was not upon her, and with a level mind she teleported herself out of the location. At some point, a loyal subject would come looking for their Lord. As much as she would have liked to take her friends body, the mode of teleportation she was using was only meant for one. She gave no thought to the wand that she had given their once-escort; it was nothing more than a second rate wand lifted off of a drunk who had once thought he would get lucky.

She didn't return to the apartment of Rebecca Crownsworth, because nothing there was worth gathering. Instead, she went straight to the private chambers of Severus Snape, worried about what the loss of a master might do to the subject.

"Hermione." Severus Snape was surprised by seeing the true Hermione Granger, and for seeing the woman do what she had always reminded people was impossible, transport herself in to Hogwarts.

"Sorry to invade your privacy so suddenly, but I just wanted to make sure you were alright." It took him only seconds to put everything together. He needed to sit down, and from the looks of his guest, so did she.

Hermione did not object to the manhandling that got her into a chair, nor did she object to the neat firewhiskey that he served her.

"The mark is still burned into my flesh."

"Trust me, I learn from history. I wasn't about to make the same mistake as he." Truth be told, he really didn't doubt her.

"You allowed yourself to be branded." His voice was tired, sad.

Hermione looked down at the point where Voldemort had once held his wand. There was a mark there, only it wasn't the whole mark - only an unmoving outline. "Necessary." She remarked into her cup. With sure sips, the drink was gone, and then refilled before she could comment.

They weren't celebrating - only taking in the tired feeling that settles in when something you dedicated your whole life to is finally over.

"Will you tell me what happened?" He finally asked, after they had absorbed the silence for several minutes. His guest was asleep, a glass tipping in her hand. "Thank you." He whispered as he took her glass, and covered her with a throw blanket that had never been taken form the back of his couch before.

_Well done, Hermione Granger. _Another voice spoke into the ear of the sleeping woman.

When Hermione awoke, she was still lying in the armchair belonging to Severus Snape. She was also alone, but this was unsurprising. Severus was most likely teaching a class.

Besides, he might mock her attempts to drag up the Gryffindor courage that she had buried under her Slytherin behavior. She would need her courage, because she was about to return a stolen wand.

It was a Monday, and according to Severus's mantle clock it was barely after nine. Harry, teaching her classes, wouldn't have a class at the moment.

She changed first, into one of the robe sets that she had left in Severus's chambers. A trunk of her belongings had been stashed in his spare room, just in case. She picked a plain pair - just black. with very little embellishment, but of a high quality material. They were practical, and Hermione Granger was nothing if not a practical person.

The route she chose to take up to the defense classrooms was an indirect one. She didn't want to run into any students. Or worse, a teacher - or the headmistress. After all, she was still wearing her actual face. Odd that it made her feel exposed.

Albus informed her that Harry was, in fact, at his desk in the classroom. His wards, set by a second rate replacement wand, hadn't detected her. However, that probably had more to do with the building favoring her.

She didn't knock.

"Who are you?" Her replacement demanded, on his feet with his wand drawn.

"I'm a bit wounded." She placed a hand to her chest to complete her mock. Turning she headed for the furthest bookcase, unworried about the wand trained on her being. As mad as Harry might be because he was assuming that someone was impersonating his best friend, he wouldn't curse her. He couldn't curse the image of the best friend he felt responsible for the death of. "For so long we called each other friends, and in a few short years you forget all about me." It might have been mean, but she was disappointed in him, and right now she needed to be mean.

"I'll only ask you one more time: who are you?" His voice was cruel. Funny, how the fight had been driven out of him after she "died," and yet the fight in him was reenergized once again, and came back to face her, not Voldemort.

"I'm exactly who I am presenting myself as, and for the first time in a while. You should be proud." She laughed. She had hung around Severus for too long; she was enjoying this taunting. "Oh, stop that glaring." She chided. Toying with him had quickly lost its amusement. "I only came to collect my wand, and return yours." His glare intensified. She could feel it on her back, but it didn't concern her. Instead, she tapped her bookcase in an intricate pattern, and accepted the wand from the compartment that had materialized.

"Give me my wand." He demanded, tone cold. She had heard that tone plenty in the past few months.

"All you had to do was ask." She tossed the wand that had murdered three warped evil men and a snake in the past twenty four hours to his feet.

"Why did you steal my wand?" He seemed uninterested in her appearance, now, but just as upset.

"I didn't steal it. Not really. I just asked Severus to nip it for me. Needed to borrow it, you see." Hermione sat down at a student's desk, and placed her own wand cleanly on the surface.

"How did you get this wand?" Harry demanded, holding up the wand that had been summoned from before her into his outstretched hand.

"I've always had it. The wand chooses the wizard, after all. Only, in my case, witch."

The boy who lived growled. Hermione raised and eyebrow and swallowed a laugh. "This wand belonged to Hermione Granger."

"Yes. Now I really feel like we are going in circles here. I only came to return your wand. Now if you don't mind, I do have some other affairs to finish."

"A wand you stole." He had ignored everything else. The woman sighed.

"Borrowed." She corrected primly.

"Why?"

"Because someone had to kill Voldemort, and you didn't seem to be willing to." She snapped, rising to her feet. She was done putting effort into not being intimidating. And if it came down to it, she still had Voldemort's wand stashed in a realm of nothingness.

Harry's stance tightened, preparing to duel an apparently unarmed witch. "Lower your wand, Potter." She demanded fiercely - a true lioness.

"Why should I?" He demanded back at her, in a should-be intimidating voice. His voice lost that quality long ago.

Hermione was done playing. She was tired now; years of planning, plotting, running, training, and living entirely on a sharp edge, and now it was supposed to be over. She had been toying with him, but she didn't want to do battle with her once best friend.

"You're Harry James Potter. You hate when people compare you to your father. You lived with your aunt, uncle, and cousin until you were accepted to Hogwarts. Your letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs. You battled with a mountain troll to save me in the girls loo after Ron made me cry. I took the blame. We thought Snape was trying to steal the stone in first year because he got bit by Fluffy. I tore a page out of a book in second year when I found out what the monster in the chamber was. I got petrified. We saved Sirius and Buckbeak using a time turner. Sirius asked you to go live with him. I never thought you entered your name into the goblet. I was Krum's treasure, but you tried to save me, too; you tried to save all of the hostages. Tell me when I can stop-" She was in his arms within his next four strides. In his arms was not a place that she wanted to be.

"Your dead."

"Yeah, Voldemort thought so too."

"But-"

"You don't deserve to know the details Harry." That made him let her go.

"But-"

"You gave up. Had I died, the Wizarding world would have lived under Voldemort's terror, and you would have stood by. You moped, and you did nothing. You acted childishly, and took control of the Order just because you could. You claimed rights by your name, not your actions, and you have lived a life that my Harry would have been disgusted by. So good bye; don't come looking for me, and take care of my class." She teleported, because she didn't want to know his reply.


	19. Epilogue

Epilogue:

Hermione Granger was never found by Harry Potter. He spent every weekend over the duration of eight years searching for her. On week days, he continued to teach the class which he would now only refer to as Hermione's. Ironically, on those weekends when he went searching for her, she popped in to visit Severus Snape, whom she had continued to maintain a solid friendship with. The guest rooms in his quarters were always ready for her, and by order of the building itself, the house elves never told the Headmistress of their visitor.

Hermione took up the occupation of a writer, using the male pen name Alex Crownsworth. But a writer doesn't need to stay in one place; Unfortunately, life in Cairo grew boring, as did life in Tel Aviv, Dhaka, Java, Sydney, Paris, and Sucre. Life as a nomad lost its appeal after backpacking through Russia, and Hermione Granger ended up moving back to England.

A year later, the Headmaster position was offered to Severus Snape, as Minerva wanted to move back to her birth place and live a life of relaxation and retirement that she had never seen the appeal in during her younger days. Severus declined the position, and said position was handed over to Hermione. Albus was pleased.

Hermione arrived at Hogwarts in the middle of the night, only offering Minerva a few unemotional words before barricading herself in the office, which come morning would be hers. The office had changed very little since it was occupied by Albus Dumbledore. Minerva hadn't wanted to offend her mentor by ridding the office of its clutter of knickknacks. Hermione knew better. With a kind request, Hogwarts moved all of Minerva's personal items into her quarters, and all of Albus's went into storage. Too long she had lived in the shadows, and she refused to live in the shadows of the ones who performed her job before her.

Dotty, a house elf that bound himself to the building long before that was acceptable for a house elf, brought the nice new Headmistress tea as she tore the office apart. She brought in new bookshelves from Mongolia, and a desk from Tibet. The lamps were from the States, and her rugs originated from China. Her chair was crafted in Spain. The father clock had been made in Canada, and the frames of all the past Headmasters and Headmistresses were made to fit in frames crafted in Florence.

She worked through the night to make the office her own, and just when the first rays of sun were crossing over the horizon, the Gargoyles announced the arrival of Harry Potter.

"Come in." She called in a voice which betrayed neither an acceptance of the beginning of a new story, nor any feelings that she may still have harbored for a man whom had been such a great disappointment in the past.

The End.


End file.
